


Let Me Suffer All For You

by messandahalf



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Blood and Violence, Boys In Love, Canon Era, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), First Kiss, Hints of a Darker Merlin, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Torture, nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messandahalf/pseuds/messandahalf
Summary: An assassination attempt turns into a kidnapping instead when Arthur and Merlin are out on a hunting trip. The sudden forced separation, and ensuing worry, might just be enough to finally nudge them together after years of toeing the line.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 506





	Let Me Suffer All For You

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is actually a lyric from the song ‘Renaissance’ from Medici. Beautiful song. I 100% recommend listening to it!!

Hidden in the forest outside of Camelot, there was a group of burly men. They were all huddled together in a misshapen circle, going over their plans. Mercenaries. A carefully selected group of men who were all highly skilled, and who all disliked the current King of Camelot and what he was doing to the kingdom. Their apparent leader was a deadly looking man. All scruffy black hair and beard, with a scar running diagonally across his face, from his right temple down to the left side of his lower jaw. He was the one currently speaking.

“Now, the King will be out of the city walls today. I’ve been informed that he is planning to go on a hunt. We have maybe two hours, probably closer to one and a half, before he is here. He will have that blasted _sorcerer_ with him, so if we are to be successful we will need to neutralize him first.”

At this, he lifts a hand, a pair of handcuffs dangling from his loosely closed fingers. These were clearly no ordinary handcuffs. Engraved around them were a series of complicated symbols. Words in another language.

“These are magic neutralizing handcuffs, made specially for his job. These _must_ make it onto the sorcerer before he has a chance to try and save the King. Is that understood?”

A murmur of assent goes through the group around the man. He grins, all jagged teeth and flashing, cruel eyes. He had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. His entire family had been killed by magic, he alone barely escaping with his life. All he had left was the scar across his face. He would make the King pay for bringing magic back to this land.

“Good.” He purrs evilly. “Let us prepare then. Today, Arthur Pendragon dies.”

~~~

Merlin has a decidedly bad feeling about this. He couldn’t really put his finger on why, which is why Arthur was still looking over the tack of his horse before mounting. He had tried to tell Arthur that they should just stay here, but the King had just brushed him off. As usual. Never mind that Merlin’s bad feelings almost always turned out to be right.

“Are you almost ready to go, Merlin?” Arthur calls over, breaking Merlin out of his musings. He quickly goes back to looking over his own mount before answering his King.

“Yes.” He says once he’s satisfied that everything is in order. “Are you absolutely _sure_ that you want to do this?” He asks one more time. Never let it be said that Merlin wasn’t persistent. He was just worried about his friend’s welfare, that’s all.

Arthur rolls his eyes almost fondly. “For the last time, yes. Now stop intentionally dragging your feet, and lets go.” He replies breezily, putting a foot in the stirrup and swinging up onto the back of his horse, landing gently in the saddle.

Merlin grumbles under his breath, saying quite a few things about the King that he is most definitely lucky were not heard, and does as he’s told. He climbs up into the saddle as well, shooting Arthur an icy glare. He simply gets his favourite boyish grin in return before Arthur nudges his horse’s sides and they start trotting out of the courtyard. Merlin does the same, going slightly faster so as to catch up. He’ll be damned if he lets Arthur get too far ahead today.

Arthur visibly relaxes as they leave the city behind and head into the trees. On any other occasion, Merlin would have allowed himself to enjoy Arthur’s carefree mood and borderline flirty smiles. When they were within the walls of the citadel, or even just in the Lower Town, Arthur held himself so primly. He had an image to think about and uphold, and even if Merlin was his Court Sorcerer now instead of his manservant, he was still a man, and Arthur was still hesitant to rock the boat by displaying any affections he _might_ have for Merlin. Merlin wasn’t even sure if Arthur _had_ any affections for him. He was merely guessing off of how the King treated him when they were alone and away from any prying eyes.

“Merlin!” The snap of a branch, followed by said branch hitting him square in the face, bring him back to the present. He scowls at Arthur. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”

“Sorry.” Merlin snaps slightly, still a bit miffed about having things thrown at him again. “Just a little preoccupied, that’s all.” He says, glancing around at their surroundings. If anything was going to happen, he wants to be at least slightly prepared.

“Oh for— lighten up, will you? Nothing is going to happen.” No sooner had the words left Arthur’s mouth than a group of men charged out of hiding amongst the trees.

“You were saying?” Merlin yells, getting a glare for his troubles. Arthur doesn’t reply, just urges his horse faster. Merlin kicks his own mount, following after him. They don’t get far before two men suddenly appear above them, swinging from rope out of a large tree and knocking them backwards off their horses. Merlin lands hard on his back, but quickly rolls to his knees, eyes searching for Arthur.

The King is unsurprisingly already on his feet and clashing swords with one of the mercenaries. Two more are converging on him from opposite sides, as another three approach Merlin. As usual, Merlin focuses first on the men after Arthur, but his eyes flick back to something in the hands of one of the men rushing him. Handcuffs. His magic flares, warning him against them, and he makes a split second decision.

The men are almost on him when he yells, “Arthur!” The King turns to face him, just in time to watch Merlin’s eyes flash gold, words spilling from the warlock’s lips.

“No! Stop him!” A loud voice yells. Merlin finishes the incantation just as one side of the handcuffs clamps down on his wrist. He cries out in pain as it immediately stings and burns his skin. His magic writhes inside him, shrinking away from the metal. Merlin, however, only has eyes for Arthur, face morphed into fear for his friend, as a mercenary goes to pierce his sword through the King’s chest, but never gets the chance. Arthur suddenly vanishes in a whirlwind, sending everyone else, Merlin included, flying backwards. Merlin lands hard on his back for a second time.

“No!” The same voice from before roars. A furious, red-faced man appears in Merlin’s line of sight. “You’ll pay for that!” He spits, grabbing the other dangling handcuff and hauling Merlin upright. Merlin cries out involuntarily as the metal cuts unforgivingly into his wrist. As the other end gets roughly snapped onto his other wrist, his body feels like it’s suddenly consumed by flames. A scream fills the air, practically shaking the very Earth, that Merlin doesn’t even recognize as his own, and then everything goes dark.

~~~

Arthur feels like he tumbling endlessly, head over heels, through nothing. Everything around him is dark, and oddly swirling, and then, just as suddenly, it all stops and he lands heavily on the floor of his chambers. The air is knocked from his lungs, and he lies there, struggling to breath, for a few minutes. Once that feat is accomplished, he sits up and rubs at his throbbing head.

“Merlin?” He mumbles. When he gets no reply, he drops his hands and looks around. When he doesn’t see Merlin anywhere, he scrambles to his feet. “Merlin?!”

He’s out of the door as fast as his shaky legs will allow. He needs to go find him. He can’t leave Merlin to the mercy of those ruthless men. He knows that Merlin can certainly take care of himself, but he also knows that with the legalization of magic came the inevitable weaponry forged from magic that can be used fatally against it. He’ll never forgive himself if Merlin sacrificed himself just to save Arthur’s life. Again. There were too many unspoken things between them for him to lose Merlin now.

“Sire?” Arthur almost sags to the stone floor in relief at the sound of Leon’s voice. As it is, an arm wraps around his waist to hold him steady. “I thought you were out hunting with Merlin?”

“I was.” Arthur replies, pulling back so he can see his Knight’s face. “We were attacked. Ambushed. Merlin managed to magic me back here, but he had to give himself up to do so. We need to find him.” He continues urgently. Leon’s face goes from curious and confused, to worried and resolved quickly.

With a nod, he lets go of the King and says, “Yes, my Lord. I will assemble the Knights and will meet you in the Council Chambers to formulate a rescue mission.”

Arthur watches him stride purposefully off down the hall with unpleasant emotions curling in his gut. As the King of Camelot, it was his job to keep his people safe, and Merlin was one of those people, no matter how strong and able he may be. If anything were to happen to him... He cuts that train of thought off quickly. He can’t afford to think like that right now. He takes a deep, steadying breath and starts moving again. First, he needed to gather maps of the area, then he needed to try and guess where they may have taken his friend.

~~~

Merlin blinks back into consciousness slowly. He has no idea where he is, just that it’s dark and damp. A wet smell clung to the air, bringing with it a cold that seeped into his bones. He could feel his magic curling away from the heavy cuffs linking his wrists together. Something tells him that if he were to try to magic them off, all he would get in reward was a lot of pain. He doesn’t bother testing his theory.

As his vision grows less blurry, he looks around him. He’s surrounded by damp stone walls, uneven and clearly not man made. He’s in a cave, then. A solitary torch burns near the dark tunnel across from him, filling the small pace with flickering weak light. The whole scene fills Merlin with an impending sense of dread. Nothing about this bodes well.

He hears the approaching, echoing footsteps long before he sees anybody. There are too many to only be from one person, too many overlapping and not quite syncing fluidly enough. However, there are enough that he can’t pick out just how many there might actually be. He tenses as they get closer, another torch lighting the way in the tunnel. They round the corner toward him purposefully. Four of them. So either there were more men in on this than the six who attacked them, or that leaves only two guarding elsewhere.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The same voice from before fills the small cavern much too loudly. Merlin has to fight back a wince as the three measly words practically pierce his skull.

Merlin frowns back, though he’s sure it probably comes across as more of a grimace, if the man’s smug smile is anything to go by. With as much heat as possible, he asks, “What do you want with me?”

The man barks out a dark laugh. “Originally, nothing. I merely wanted you out of the way so I could kill the King. Unfortunately, we weren’t quite quick enough with those to keep you from saving his sorry and pathetic hide.” The man gestures to Merlin’s wrists. “I assume by now you know what they’re for.”

Merlin grits his teeth. “They’re blocking my magic.” He says, glowering at the burly man as he casually approaches.

The man gives him an evil, glinting smile. “Exactly. Which means that you are at my mercy, _sorcerer_. There is nothing you can do to stop me from getting what I want.”

Merlin really doesn’t want to indulge this man, whoever he is, but he supposes that if he’s talking then he isn’t trying to do something a lot worse. With that in mind, he asks, “And what is it that you want?”

“Information. To ultimately help me make the King of Camelot much less alive than he currently is.” The man adds as much venom as he can to the title _King of Camelot_. Merlin shrinks back away from it slightly.

“Why? What has he done to you?” He demands. “Arthur has done nothing but bring peace and prosperity to the land. Why would you want him dead?” He isn’t expecting the back-handed blow to his cheek which snaps his head in the other direction. He gasps at the ache in his cheek.

“Your precious _King_ has happily brought back an evil that his father worked so hard to eradicate. He did so without thinking of the consequences of his actions.” The man hisses. Ah, so that’s what this was about. This man was an old Uther tyranny supporter.

Merlin turns back to face the man. There’s anger sparking in the dark eyes looking at him. “Arthur isn’t his father, he can’t rule the same way Uther did. Uther was cruel, and blinded by nothing but fear and hatred.”

A knife suddenly appears and is pressed under Merlin’s jaw, forcing him to lift his head and unwillingly expose his throat to his captor. He doesn’t even dare to swallow.

“Uther was wise enough to see the evil that _your_ kind is made of. He was right to try and cleanse the world of it. King Arthur is foolish, and blind, and will pay for those faults.”

The knife slowly slides down his throat, sharp tip cool against his over-heated skin. He should probably be worried about how he felt freezing cold and burning hot at the same time. However, he did have more important things to focus on, like a knife now sliding down to his collarbones. He finally swallows as the man grabs the belt around his waist and cuts through it easily. Next, he grabs the hem of Merlin’s tunic, and slices the knife blade through it from top to bottom, leaving the fabric draping open and exposing his chest. The man grins crookedly at him.

“Just a little prep for later. For now, you get to wait here and stew over what’s coming for you.” A deep and obvious hatred glints in the man’s eyes as he spits on Merlin’s boots, and turns to leave. Merlin watches as the four men take up both torches, theirs and the one that had been here when he awoke, and leave. Darkness soon surrounds him, and his heart leaps into his mouth as he finally realizes what they have planned for him. _Torture_.

~~~

“We were jumped here.” Arthur says, pointing at a spot on the map. “They must have known we were coming, which means that we have a traitor somewhere in Camelot.” He adds on. The five knights standing around the table all share an equally concerned look. Camelot was a big place, with any number of citizens, or even serving staff, that may want to betray their King after the repeal of the magic ban.

It’s Lancelot who pipes up with, “Do you have any idea who it may be?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no. It could really be anyone. Right now, my main concern is finding Merlin.” He says. He knows that overlooking the traitor right now might be a bit rash, but everything in him was screaming at him to find Merlin.

“Perhaps, Sire, we try to do both at the same time.” Leon says, seemingly reading Arthur’s mind.

Arthur looks up, eyebrows raised in interest. “How so?” He asks.

“We send out a search party for Merlin, but we spread the news of our plans first. It may take a little time, but I’m sure that whoever this traitor is, they will want to inform whoever that are working for of your impending trip out of the city.” Leon suggests sensibly.

Arthur chews on his lip uncertainly. What Leon said makes sense. A traitor in Camelot, especially one willing to see the King killed, was a very serious problem. However, the longer they waited, the more danger Merlin would be in. If he was even still alive. Once again, it’s Lancelot who breaks the silence.

“Sire, perhaps if we proceed with Leon’s idea, but leave out that, say Gwaine and I, are to leave immediately to start the search. If we manage to pick up their trail, we can leave clues behind for you and the rest to follow.” The others nod in agreement. Arthur can see the sense in that, too. He stares down at the map on the table, lost in thought. He hated when decisions like these created a war between his head and his heart. Never before had a simple decision been so difficult to make. Although, where Merlin was concerned, nothing was ever _simple_ , was it?

At last, he looks up and nods. “All right, we’ll do that. Leon, you know what to do. Percival and Elyan, help him set whatever trap or lookout he needs.” He turns to Lancelot and Gwaine when the other three nod. “Both of you ride immediately. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to try your best not to be seen leaving the city by too many people.” The two knights nod as well, and then they’re all leaving.

Arthur sinks down into a chair and buries his hands in his hair. He stares sightlessly down at the table for a few minutes before shifting his gaze to the window. The sun has clearly shifted in the sky. He tries not to think about how it might be too late to save Merlin already. If the warlock isn’t alive when they find him, and they will find him, Arthur has no idea what he’s going to do.

“Merlin.” He whispers at the otherwise clear, blue sky. The beauty of the day belies the tragedy currently taking place. “Wherever you are, please just hold on a little longer.”

~~~

Merlin’s cry of pain rings muted through the small cave interior. The burning in his wrists had grown to overtake his entire arms by this point. His magic was in total upheaval, rushing to the surface to try to protect itself, and then writhing away when the handcuffs clamp down on it. That, coupled with the knife blade making neat, small cuts across his chest, was making stars start to burst across his vision.

“This would be much easier for you if you just tell me what I want.” The man from before, Tybalt _(he had finally formally introduced himself)_ , sneers. The blade in his hand is dripping small drops of blood onto the rocky ground beneath them.

Merlin twists his face into a fierce glare. “I’m not telling you a thing. I’d never betray my King like that.” He spits out harshly.

Tybalt grins, almost like he’s excited by Merlin’s answer. “Suit yourself.” He growls, running the tip of the blade over Merlin’s taut stomach muscles. “I can do this a lot longer than you can endure it.” Merlin just looks over his shoulder and grits his teeth. He refuses to give the man the satisfaction of seeing the fear now curling in his gut.

Another raw cry is pulled from his lips as Tybalt’s hand presses the blade into Merlin’s skin. Not deep enough to mortally wound him. Just enough to bring a rush of crimson red blood rushing to the surface to trail slowly down his quivering stomach. Merlin lets his head fall back, eyes closed as he clenches his jaw and breathes heavily through his nose.

Tybalt’s breath is hot on the side of his face as he says, “Just tell me how to get me and my men into the castle undetected. Just a few words, and this can all stop.” His voice is sickly sweet, with an almost slimy quality to it.

“Never.” Merlin answers. “Even if it could be done, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“It can be done.” Tybalt hisses, bringing his knife up to cut into Merlin’s chest, right above his erratically bearing heart. Another pained yell fills the cave, and Tybalt grins cruelly. “No castle is that well protected.”

Merlin heaves a few breathes as Tybalt retreats a few steps, taking his knife with him. Merlin doesn’t want to look at him, but it’s almost like his eyes are drawn magnetically toward his captor. He swallows thickly as he watches ruddy, meaty hands wipe the blade clean. His eyes flick up to the man’s disgusted face as Tybalt chuckles humourlessly.

“Clearly you’re going to take a little more... _work_.” He says, laying his knife down near the edge of the tunnel entrance, and extracting a new blade from his belt. This one is about a inch longer than the last, and covered in nasty looking, jagged, serrated teeth. Merlin squirms fruitlessly as Tybalt slowly approaches again. “Now, once again, how do we get in and get close to the King?”

Merlin’s eyes stay fixed on the knife as he swallows. “You won’t get anything out of me.” Merlin repeats.

Tybalt barks out a harsh laugh. “Oh, but I can get quite a bit more out of you before you eventually die of blood loss. Unfortunately, it’s just not very useful to me.” Tybalt advances even more, and Merlin twists in his restraints subconsciously, instinctively trying to get away. His struggles pulls a much more gleeful, but equally as evil, laugh from the mercenary.

Merlin whimpers, a shudder running though his entire body as Tybalt runs the sharp blade lightly over Merlin’s skin. Not enough to make him bleed yet, Merlin realizes. Only enough to leave white lines that quickly turn pink again in its wake. He clenches his jaw and breathes shakily through his nose. When it becomes apparent that Tybalt’s threat isn’t going to provoke an answer, he pushes down, drawing the blade quickly across Merlin’s chest diagonally from his left collarbone to just below his right ribcage. The scream that is ripped from Merlin’s throat is animalistic and raw.

“Perhaps I’ll leave you with that to think over your answer.” Tybalt muses, once again stepping back. Merlin’s ears are ringing too loudly for him to really hear what the man is doing. He starts trembling all over as Tybalt’s cruel grin comes back into view. He holds up the previous knife and wiggles it slightly in the air. “I’ll get you to hold onto this for me, though.”

Merlin’s vision goes black around the edges as Tybalt plunges the knife into his thigh. His shaking intensifies as Tybalt leaves it there and steps back. He receives one last sneering smirk before the man leaves. Merlin idly thinks that he should be grateful that at least he was left with a torch for light this time.

He looks down at the knife sticking out of his leg, blood already surging up to the surface and spilling down his leg. He bites his lip and lets his head fall back. With his hands trussed up above his head, he has no nope of getting the blade out. Even if he could, without his magic he would soon bleed out. His magic coils in his chest at being acknowledged, and he whimpers as that fire from before rushes over his entire body.

_“I just got word that the King is coming looking for his pet. Set enough clues to get him here, and when he shows up, we’ll kill him.”_ Merlin hears faintly, the voices growing quieter and quieter as the men move away from him. A sudden, overwhelming rage bubbles up in his chest. They can do whatever they want to _him_ , but he will not let them lay a finger on Arthur.

His magic rushes forward at his command, the sounds erupting from his throat at the savage burning is loud and booming. The very cave itself shakes as his eyes light up a molten gold and the cuffs around his wrists start to glow orange. A _bang_ echoes around the whole cavern, mixed with his final roar of outrage. His wrists burn hotter than anything he’s ever felt, and then the cuffs land on the rock at his feet with a resounding _thunk_.

~~~

Arthur was once again stooping to prowling around his own castle. Lancelot and Gwaine has left just under two hours ago, leaving Arthur, Leon, Elyan, and Percival to suss out the traitor. It had taken much longer than Arthur would’ve liked, especially with visions of Merlin lying dead somewhere filling his mind, but according to Leon, no time at all. Which Arthur supposed is probably correct, considering the traitor could’ve waited until the cover of nightfall. The King is immensely happy that they weren’t intelligent enough for that.

The traitor, it seemed, was one of the maidservants in the Royal Household. She was new, had only been stationed there for a couple of weeks at most. Arthur had no clue as to why she disliked him. He only knew her name, and barely anything else. What had he done to turn her so viciously against him? He would have time later to ask his questions. For now, they had to focus on following her. Wherever she was going.

The four of them followed at a safe distance, not wanting to alert her to their presence by the sounds of their horses. Tailing her on foot would’ve been the safer option, as Leon had pointed out, but Arthur didn’t want to waste time going back to Camelot to fetch their mounts once they knew which way Merlin was. The consequence of his decision was that they had to stay well back to avoid detection, risking potentially losing her as she cautiously entered the fringe of trees surrounding the outer city limits.

“Sire.” Leon says, pointing towards the trees in the distance when Arthur looks at him. The King shifts his gaze to see where Leon is pointing. Approaching through the trees on horseback is a man. He has a ramshackle set of leather armour strapped to his upper body, and a sword sheathed across his back, if the hilt of something visible over his shoulder is anything to go by.

Arthur leans closer to the knight to reply quietly, “That looks like the men who ambushed us. Same kind of armour and clothes.”

Leon nods absently. “Should we approach? We can catch the traitor and the mercenary at the same time. Maybe they can lead us to Merlin.”

Arthur doesn’t reply verbally, just nods curtly, and the four of them ride out. The pair hear them coming, naturally, and the woman looks scared as the man yells at her, lashing out a hand to hit her across the face. She crumples to the ground, one hand pressed to her cheek, as the man pulls his horse around and kicks it in the ribs viciously. It dances in place for a moment, threatening to rear, before darting forwards as asked.

“Leon, follow him!” Arthur yells, and the man is quick to obey. His horse pulls ahead, dashing into the trees after the mercenary. Arthur and the two remaining knights pull up as they reach the woman, halting their horses so they’re surrounding her on all sides. As Arthur dismounts, the other two do as well. The woman scrambles to her feet, eyes terrified. Arthur can see the red mark on her cheek where she was struck, and he _almost_ feels bad for her.

“Why?” He demands as he comes to a stop in front of her. Despite the obvious fear in her eyes, she raises her chin defiantly.

“I have my reasons,” she says in a clearly shaky voice, “but I doubt you will agree with them.”

Arthur grits his teeth to avoid verbally lashing out at her. He doesn’t have time for this. “Tell me, and let me be the judge of that.”

For a moment, it seems the woman will stay silent, but eventually replies, “My whole family was murdered by a sorcerer. There are many like me, who share the same story, and we all disagree with your decision to legalize magic. It is evil, and you are simply blinded by your affections for your glorified serving boy. With you dead, we might get another King who agrees with our plight.”

Her words anger Arthur, but he does his best to swallow it down. Approaching hoof beats behind him bring him a good distraction from the woman’s words. When he turns, he finds Leon approaching. When they meet gazes, Leon shakes his head. Arthur grits his teeth and turns back to face the traitor and his men.

“Percival, take her back to Camelot and get her comfy in the dungeons. I will deal with her before the full council upon my return. For now, we have other business to attend to.” He waves his hand dismissively. Percival nods and latches a strong hand onto her shoulder, easily pulling her back to his horse. Arthur watches with dull eyes as he mounts up, and Elyan helps him pull the woman up onto the horse in front of him. As the knight trots off, Arthur turns back to Leon.

“I lost him in the trees, Sire, but I saw which way he was going. It also seems that Lancelot and Gwaine picked up their trail as I saw some clues, notches in the tree trunks, along the way.” The knight replies. Arthur nods wordlessly again, already moving back to his horse.

Once he and Elyan are both back on board, he waves forward. “Lets go. We’ve wasted enough time already.” The three of them urge their horses into a brisk canter, Leon in the lead. Arthur can’t help the feeling of unease writhing in his gut.

~~~

It was dark, and the heavy scent of iron clung to Merlin’s nostrils. He was cold, a breeze coming toward him through the darkness and ruffling his torn and draping tunic. He has a vague idea that he is in a cave, but instead of being tied as he was before, he’s now freely moving. He’s also very much alone now. He desperately wracks his mind, trying to remember what happened, but it’s all fuzzy. He has the distinct feeling that something happened. That _he did_ something. Something that he wasn’t entirely in control over. A faint light appears up ahead, an exit from this cave, perhaps. His stomach churns as he heads in that direction.

~~~

The shadows around them were shifting as they made their way through the trees. Arthur was now in front, following the notches in the trees left behind by his knights before them. They had already passed the place they had been attacked. Much to Arthur’s dismay, there had been no sign of Merlin at all. His heart was racing in his chest, hammering against his ribcage as they slowly progressed.

“Look, up ahead.” Elyan calls, suddenly appearing beside him. When Arthur looks, he sees what the man had also seen. Up ahead, the trees thinned out slightly, partly due to a naturally made clearing surrounding the mouth of a cave, and partly due to some of them having been chopped down for probably firewood. Arthur pulls his mount to a halt, his knights pulling up on either side of him.

After scrutinizing the mouth of the cave a little longer, Arthur nods. “If they took Merlin anywhere, it’d be there. Out of sight, and easy to conceal a prisoner.” He muses.

“How many men did you see before?” Elyan asks.

Arthur thinks back. “I recall there maybe being six. However, if they were camped out here, there very well may be more.”

Silence descends upon the trio as they sit and watch. The cave is silent, no hint of sound or movement at all. The whole thing puts Arthur on edge. There should be something happening. Without a verbal cue, he starts to cautiously ride closer. His knights follow without hesitation.

“There.” Leon points to two horses tethered to the trees nearby. Horses from the stables in Camelot.

“Lancelot and Gwaine are here.” Arthur replies. “That must mean that Merlin is here too.”

“Perhaps we should dismount and continue on foot as they did.” Elyan suggests.

Arthur nods his consent. “Yes. I believe we will be of more use to them on foot.” He leads them closer to the other horses and dismounts, quickly tying his reins to a low-hanging branch. He pats the horse’s shoulder as he unsheathes his sword. With a silent hand gesture, they all slowly start to approach the cave, bodies tense and on high alert.

Arthur gestures for them to stop as they catch sight of movement inside the cave. Arthur readjusts his grip on his sword, readying himself for a fight. However, as the figures finally appear in the mouth of the cave, the outside light illuminating who they are, the air gets punched from his lungs and he almost drops his sword entirely.

Three figures have appeared. Three very familiar figures. Lancelot and Gwaine are on the outsides, helping to hold up the third, who had one arm wrapped around each of their shoulders. His head is sagging forward onto his chest, which is exposed through his tattered tunic. Thick, red lines criss-cross his skin, all the way from his collarbones down to the sharp jut of his hipbones. A knife is stuck out of his thigh, leaking blood down his trouser leg to his boots, which are half-walking, half-dragging on the ground.

“Merlin.” Arthur breathes, finally letting his sword fall to the ground as he rushes forward. “What happened?” He demands of the two knights holding his friend up.

It’s Gwaine who replies, “Don’t know. We found him like this. Everyone in there is dead. And brutally too.” He gestures back into the cave with his head. Arthur’s eyes shift back to Merlin, who seems to have stirred at the sound of Arthur’s voice.

When he slowly lifts his head, more cuts reveal themselves on his throat. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I had no choice. They were going to kill you. I couldn’t lose you.” He says, voice weak and strained. Arthur looks to Lancelot desperately.

“He appears to have been tortured, Sire.” Lancelot says in a quiet voice. Merlin whimpers slightly, letting his head fall back forward. He sags heavier between his two friends.

“Arthur, what he did in there... it was bloody.” Gwaine says, voice tense and almost afraid. A shudder runs though Merlin’s body as a choked sound leaves his lips.

Arthur purses his lips and shakes his head. “I don’t care what he may or may not have done. He needs to get back to Camelot, to Gaius. We can sort through the rest later. I will not lose him.” He gets two nods into return, which is good enough for him to reluctantly turn away and rush back to fetch his horse.

Untying his horse, he climbs back on and trots over to meet the trio slowly advancing. Lancelot and Gwaine wordlessly understand what Arthur wants, and help him to pull a now trembling Merlin up onto his horse in front of him. Arthur gingerly wraps an arm snugly around Merlin’s waist, trying to avoid the worst of the slices across his pale skin.

“Just hang on, Merlin. You’re going to be fine.” Arthur whispers in his ear as his knights all mount their horses. Once everyone is ready, he urges his horse slowly up into a canter, knowing that the gait will jostle Merlin less. As they head back towards home, Arthur sends up a silent prayer that Merlin will be okay.

~~~

The first thing that Merlin becomes aware of as he slowly regains consciousness, is pain. Sharp, intense pain all over his body. He groans, and tries to sit up, but the stab of pain lancing through numerous places on his torso make him gasp in shock and quickly abort the movement. However, his noise wakes the other occupant of the room.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s worried voice makes Merlin open his eyes fully. “Oh, thank God.” The King murmurs, reaching out to brush the hair back from Merlin’s forehead.

Merlin looks around in confusion, slowly taking in the room he was in. Why was he in the King’s chambers, in the King’s _bed_ , instead of his own? He blinks blearily against the light filtering in through the open windows. Finally, his confusion filled eyes land back on Arthur himself, who looks an interesting combination of relieved and worried.

“What happened?” He mumbles, coughing as his dry throat protests. Instead of answering, Arthur grabs a goblet from the table next to him and lifts it to Merlin’s lips, placing a hand on the back of his head to help support him as he drinks. He drinks greedily, drops of water sloshing over the sides and running down his chin. Once it’s empty, Arthur pulls away and sets it aside.

“Arthur, what happened?” He repeats, voice slightly stronger now.

Arthur chews on his lip for a moment, stalling, before answering. “We went out for a hunt, one you vehemently insisted was a bad idea. Turns out you were right, because we got attacked. During the melee, you zapped me back here, but got yourself captured.”

Merlin nods, having remembered all that. “Yes, I remember that.” He pauses for a moment, meeting Arthur’s eyes. “I also remember what they did to me. But after that, it’s blank. How did I get away? Did you find me?” He asks. The thought of Arthur charging into danger to save him both fills him with exasperation and also makes his heart skip a beat.

Arthur glances away before looking back. “I did ride out to find you, but it turns out you didn’t need me after all. You somehow got yourself out.”

Merlin looks back in confusion. “But how? They had magic-proof cuffs on me. I was powerless.”

Arthur gives him a wan smile, and reaches out an unsteady hand to lightly grip Merlin’s, lifting it up so the warlock can see his blistered and bruised wrist. “I’m not sure how you did it, but you managed to get them off. At great harm to yourself. You were weaker than anything when I finally got to you. I got you back to Gaius as fast as I could, and he cleaned and dressed all your wounds. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up now.”

Merlin swallows before asking, “And how long has that been?”

“About two days.” Arthur replies, eyes down on his fingers fiddling in his lap. Merlin doesn’t know what to say. He’s never really seen Arthur like this before. Before he really has a chance to try to think of something, anything, that might put the King at ease, Arthur pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. He starts to restlessly pace up and down the room.

After a few minutes of uneasy movement, Arthur turns back to Merlin and points a finger at him. “Don’t you ever do that again, Merlin. Do you understand? I was worried sick. I thought I might never see you again. Do you have any idea what losing you like that would do to me? How guilty I would feel that the one person I love most in this world sacrificed themselves so brutally just to save my life? What makes me so much more important than you?”

Merlin stares at Arthur open-mouthed, speechless after his rant. There were so many parts of his statement to reply to, like the fact that he was the bloody _King_ , and that made him worth a hundred of Merlin. Without Arthur, what would the kingdom be? However, it was the, most likely accidental, love declaration that he’s stuck on.

“You love me?” He asks. Arthur pales visibly as he realizes what he had blurted out so unthinkingly.

He opens and closes his mouth several times before settling on a simple, “Yes.”

Merlin’s heart flutters madly in his chest. “Then I won’t promise that I won’t blindly throw myself in front of danger for you, cause I also refuse to see the man I love hurt.” He replies, voice surprisingly strong for how terrified he is at finally voicing those dangerous words out loud.

Arthur stares at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft huff of laughter. Next thing Merlin knows, Arthur has crossed back to the side of the bed to gently grip his face and press their lips together. Merlin doesn’t even have to think to kiss back, he does it instinctively. A flurry of butterflies explodes in his belly, and he shifts to get a better angle.

The moment is ruined as Merlin pulls back with a hiss, the movement pulling at the cuts across his chest. Arthur let’s out a watery laugh, and helps guide Merlin back down against the pillows. He once again lets his hand gently caress Merlin’s hair, eyes never deviating from Merlin’s own.

“We’ll pick this up later, once you are well. For now, you are to rest and heal. Both your body and your magic.” He orders gently. Merlin just nods. “In the meantime, you can help me think of ways to settle the dissent over the removal of the magic ban amongst some of my people.”

Merlin watches Arthur move off to his writing desk, pulling out an inkpot and quill. He smooths out a piece of parchment, looking up at Merlin expectantly. Merlin huffs out a laugh, wincing as it makes his chest ache.

“We need to think of a way, a better way than previously, to show the people that magic isn’t dangerous. It can be a force for good. Most of Camelot’s citizens were convinced before. I’m sure we can do it again.” When Merlin looks over to Arthur, he swears he sees unspoken love swimming in his shining blue eyes. The sight makes his chest ache in all the best ways possible. He was sure that together, they could accomplish anything.


End file.
